Moving Past Memories
by Miss Macabre Grey
Summary: Russia remembers everything about his old lover/enemy/friend. It hurts. Time moves on and so does he. Even still, that doesn't mean he doesn't still love him anymore; that's the first thing he can't forget. *not really M-ish but being safe*


This is an EXTREMELY late story for someone on dA and I don't even know! It's like Russia second person to America in present tense changes to third person past tense in the flash back and I'm so gyah! This is such a weird story, I hope it didn't confuse you all so much! It's been months since I did pretty much ANYTHING RusUS related! I hope it's not as bad as I think it is. Please enjoy it! Italics are the flashbacks so yeah! Aslo, M for just the minor stuff. I was to lazy to add my usual smut.

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><p>I always awoke before you. Just as dawn approached, as the light hues in the sky vaguely shone on your face through the window we had to keep open because it was always just "too hot" as we made love so vigorously. Still, the morning after was certainly my second favorite part, first obviously being when I finally felt you climax around me and getting even tighter and I see the blissful expression on your face while I follow shortly after. I cannot remember how many times I replay these types of memories in my head. How I am so haunted by the image of a man I can no longer have. It breaks me. Slow and deeply.<p>

This is the worst type of memory.

We-you- were so young then. You still are, of course, but at the time, your body was hardly that of about 16. Of course you were far past any common consent age, but your youthful glow and presence never stopped making me feel like the old man I am. Such a sunny, innocent personality. Stubborn beyond all reason, you hardly wanted me to help you in your civil war. Still, I held you late at night, cradled you until your tears stopped flowing and the bright smile beamed once more on your face.

So often you placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, nose, or forehead; whispering a soft "thank you" but I hardly deserved it. I only patted your back and told you simple stories about how things would get better. About how a land so full of dreams like you could do anything and more. About this being a natural part in a nation's life and how well you were handling everything. You blushed at my words, I remember this especially well by how cute you looked trying to hide it. Your cocky blue eyes reflecting even the tiniest bit of insecurity and so I kissed you back just as innocently, normally on the lips and you were far from protesting fighting my tongue for dominance so rarely achieved.

I loved the moments when you weren't crying more, though. When you had a successful battle and had come running into my arms out of cheer and glory. The thought of my precious love defeating the other side made us both a little prideful, but I knew it tore you up inside as well. You knew they were your own people, knew that when they hurt, you hurt. And so once again I would hold you in my arms and comfort you. No matter how strong you seemed or still try to put on, I will always know you. I know how to make you whimper in real pain and fall to your knees. I know what makes you look strong and how to take that strength away. I know how to make you miserable and orgasm until you collapse from depression or exhaustion. I didn't think I would ever have to use those secrets at the time, though. Back then, I truly loved you. I love you, even now, Alfred F Jones.

I remember so many things from those happy times. Such precious moments.

_"Wow, Russia! Your eyes are... are actually REALLY pretty! I never got to see you up close before when you sit so far at those meeting things but you really are handsome! I like you, Russia, there's no way someone that gives off such nice vibes could be bad! Thanks for coming to help me out and stuff! You must be a really great guy-or! I'm sorry, I didn't properly introduce myself! I'm America! You can call be Alfred, okay?" the young blond American stated with a sense of pride and cheer unknown to the Russian. Could the naive male really not know the weight of his words?_

_Russia stared, mouth gloriously open for wandering flies to crawl in or a soft sigh to come out. It took a moment to realize what he was doing, but soon he nodded and reached his hand out for a shake. The smaller male had an impressive grip. Russia could tell the blue-eyed sun would be a powerful nation very soon._

_"Er… You okay, Russia? Do you think I could call you Ivan? Is that being disrespectful? I'm sorry!" America exclaimed in a bit of a rush, worrying about having offended the large Russian._

_And for the first time in years Russia actually laughed. With a warmed heart and a genuine smile he let out a true hearty laugh. Russia stared at the foolish younger nation and pulled him close. "Da. You may call me Ivan, Podsolnechnik." Russia finally gasped out feeling oddly warm in the chilly afternoon._

_"That's great! I can just tell you and me are going to be really close, Ivan! We'll always watch each other's back and help the other try to succeed! I may seem too young for you, but still, thanks a bunch, Ivan! This means a lot to me!" America laughed back flashing a blinding grin to the taller country. _

I had not known that to watch your back meant would later mean I would be pointing a gun at it at near any chance I could. And I could never shoot. I could not shoot my dear Podsolnechnik even if we are an immortal kind. And when the time came, you did.

Perhaps that is why I fell. I dreamed of a country whose people were all happy and equal. An ideal society that could change on demand and conform exactly to its people's wishes. I was a fool. You knew that, didn't you? There is no such utopia for humans in this life. How you knew so young that people needed to be free and work to their own accord, let them succeed or fail, needed to happen.

But there was still a time in-between those two phases. The phase of love and hate. It was the middle that things changed for the worse between us. The World Wars. You remember them, da? We fought together once again, but it was different.

We changed subtly in that time. It's when I could see you smiling brightest and off pretending to be the hero while I could only envy you. You had everything and it made me sick. Money, power, climate, land, people, government, love. I envied it all so much I even tried being on Germany's side for awhile, but then, how could I stray away from my only sun?

Perhaps it was in my jealous rage I wanted to change. I wanted to surpass you and create he perfect society you could never and we fought and bickered but we still got the job done and won the war. Together. Ha.

_"Russia." America spat out with venom blocking the door._

_"Yes, America, that would be me. Might you wish to move while I return to my home? We won the war, I have no reason to stay with you any longer. Celebrate with those already intoxicated fools and try not to choke on your own vomit, da?" Russia quickly countered wanting nothing more than to leave to his home at last with an endless supply of vodka_

_"Tch. Whatever, man! I was here to invite you out to grab a celebratory bite but I guess you're too much of an ass to, huh? Please, who was I fooling, you and your backwaters government wouldn't understand how to properly interact with others anyway."_

_"I repeat again not so kindly, move from the exit so I may leave. I wish not for your presence unless you can pass me my vodka and actually stay silent for five minutes."_

_"Why you-! Ugh! Whatever! Last time I try to be nice! We're done trying to be friends."_

And so you moved aside and I walked out. Oh how I regret that. I love you still so much, and for that harsh rejection, perhaps it was destined that we be enemies. Yet at the time I truly did not _hate_ you. No. It was only a bit of jealousy and announce covering my extensive love for you.

As time progressed and our people completely loathed each other I realized we had to play the part of the bitter countries as well. Then more time progressed and we became more and more competitive. As we became more eager to crush the other I realized something very important. You were never playing. I could feel it in every dirty look and insult that came my way from you. You truly did hate me and that hurt the worst. I tried to hard not to give in that I almost think I hated you, too for awhile. Or I did if I could have. Deep down I was still only trying to cover up the pain and trying to forget my old emotions.

_"Russia! Y-you! HOW? How the flying fuck were you able to do it? And don't you DARE try to play dumb! You sent that thing into space! You broke orbit now tell how and why, commie bastard!" America's normally cocky voice raged cracking on verge of complete fury._

_A smirk was heard by the Russian on the other side. "Come now, is the stupid American pig already too lazy to figure out things himself with his wonderful capitalist ways? Or are you just that ignorant of something so simple? Either way, I do believe there is... No chance in hell I shall tell you, da? Trust me, America, the next thing I send shall be your corpse after I completely bury you and your economy."_

_"Grr! Damn you annoying commie bastard! I bet you can't say that to my fa-" _

I hung up quickly. It was true after all. It would have been very hard to say such a thing to your face. The sweet, bubbly face I had grown used to could become icy and hateful in an instant when towards me. I avoided that face at any chance I could.

It was in my weakened state I felt most inclined to push you away. I was falling so far so fast, but both you and I could perceive it. I knew from the beginning. You showed me how even the land of dreams knows there is no such thing as paradise on this Godforsaken rock. We make dreams to have them crushed, and then to have new ones more realistically made and to have those crushed and the process repeats until finally we wither give up or give in and find out how to be happy with what we have to work with. That is what makes you so lovable, America. You never gave or give up and beat be at every moment I thought I surpassed you.

Yes, it was when I shattered and adopted my name as the only Russia once more that you came to me. I tried so hard to avoid you, but you kept not letting me have my way and tried to be my hero. Do you know what that did to me? How horrible to know you never stood a chance against the person you both love and hate more than any other? It was humiliating but endearing. I do think I cried in your arms then, did I not?

_"Knock, knock, Russia! Please... I want to see you! I'm here to help!" Russia heard America call out with actual still largest nation got up, slow and sore, not to answer but to hide. "Oh! I know that you're in there! I'm not stupid, I know you're weak and can't leave the house right now! Give up and answer already!" and still no answer, "Fine then! You brought this upon yourself!"_

_America and his damned super-strength broke his doorknob._

_"Y-you stupid American! Y-you'll let the cold in now!" Russia stuttered not from the cold but from how honestly weak he felt at the moment._

_"Oh... I'm sorry about that!" the honey blond apologized trying to shut the door as best he could in place before examining the ashen haired one. "Shit, you look bad."_

_"Ha. Another bri-brilliant observation fr-from you!" Russia was now officially coughing and choking on the air._

_America rushed over to help without hesitation._

_It took a few rough pats and rubbing on Russia's back to get the coughs to calm down but the seemingly rough action was still so gentle in comparison of order things they did to each other before. No, now there was sympathy and kindness in the strikes. Russia was crying._

_"Wh-what the hell? I'm sorry, man! I didn't think I hit so hard! I mean- I just-! Will you stop crying? Please?"_

_Violet orbs met sapphire ones with tears still threatening to pour before looking away. "I... I did not invite you here, American! I did... did not want you to see me so weak! I hate you, Capitalist pig! Gorging yourself on others' misery to satisfy your own hero complex! It is sick! You are a pig! I hate you and this false kindness! You made me weak so you can to pretend to care and get me on my feet and I refuse to fall for it! Alfred get out!" at last the name came out after decades of keeping it in. It no longer brought the sweet and uplifting noise to it as it once did from his tongue. Now there was only bitterness and pain attached to the two syllables. Tears openly fell while Russia turned away from America._

_But America just yanked him back in. It was not romantic or really loving, but there was still that piece of care into the embrace America started as he hushed and hummed to Russia like an oversized child._

_"Please, I said no tears! I know it hurts now, I feel only a piece of it in myself actually, but I know what you're feeling. I'm really sorry about what happened between us Ivan. You know... I don't hate you anymore. If I ever even did, it was stupid to. You're not so bad and you shouldn't cry alone. I'm going to do my best with you so we can rebuild our friendship. To stop hating each other. I'm not doing this to be a hero, but because I care about you. Now wipe up and I'll make us some soup, okay?" America explained carefully putting Russia's body back on the sofa they were on and heading to the kitchen._

_Russia was so happy. _

So that was that. We started to slowly build up a mutual "let's not kill each other" agreement and we got closer. After about twenty years here we are now, on civil terms with an occasional smile to one another.

Smiles. That's all, and even then occasionally. You give out smiles like you breathe air, the ones you give me must mean nothing. I remember so much more from us. The innocent love we felt. If I had to choose, even the hostilities between us from before were better. It was at those times you were truly engaged and didn't hold out on me. It was at lease back then I felt special in your eyes, like the only one who you considered a worthy opponent and equal.

But it is now. What am I a shadow in your young memory banks? What am I but a fat, tall, creepy nation that used to actually hold some real power? I am merely that "other nation" to you now. You couldn't care less as I am now.

"Yo, Russia? Earth to Russia? Germany's been done and dismissed the meeting for five minutes now, aren't cha going to start packing?"

I look up rather irritated only to find that it's you. Really, you could always be so bothersome at times. "Da. I suppose I will do that now." I state coolly looking around to see most have left or at the door.

"Oh... Yeah, okay man. You seem outta it so I wanted to see what was up. You feeling alright?" and you also tend to ask foolish questions, hence the annoyingness, perhaps.

"Da. I've no reason to not feel alright. Now please, I should be going. As you've stated before, the meeting is through." I tell you icily without any eye-contact putting away my notes.

"Oh... Yeah. Well, 'bout that... I was sorta wondering if ya'd want to go out with me tonight. There's a nice bar down the street from here. Or we can just go by my house and watch some flicks and have some beers? Sound okay?" you ask me in that smooth voice that breaks with uncertainty and, being honest, cuteness. It's so hard to say no to that voice, no wonder you got spoiled.

"I prefer vodka, da? Please, remove yourself from my path, America."

It's only now I see your true commitment. This wasn't a random spur of the moment gesture that you're doing on a whim, is it? Your hands flail to the side furthering the block to the exist and that stubborn attitude of yours boils up in your eyes. You are such an curious being. I cannot begin to fathom why you look so desperate to get my agreement of company; we've spent numerous occasions avoiding such an act.

"No way! C'mon! It'll be fun, you and me! I know that might seem stupid considering but I want you around! Just for tonight! It's... it's been a really long time. What could possibly happen, anyway? I just want to know how you're holding up nowadays and if you're recovering everything well enough. I mean, I have vodka at my house, too! You seem distraught today so its perfect! Please? Just let go and let's hang out, yeah?" If you had any less pride it would almost sound like you were truly begging but I know that's not how it is to you. You see it as one trying to befriend or court another but I want none of it! If I give in now, how can I possibly withstand in the future? You're a cruel one, America. These situations you put me in have no way out without no consequence.

"I shall only stay for an hour."

You appear pleased and rush me out to your car. I expected you as more of a truck person but it turns out to be a modest model probably at least four or five years old. I get in hesitantly but once I'm all settled you speed it to your home.

Oh, your home... You moved so soon? Into an apartment, no less? Sure, the place reminds me of you as I walk in; it's messy with papers and crumbs everywhere, posters of superheroes and movies scattered about but it's so foreign to me. I remember your old home so well. I can see the trees and smell the forest all around with hardly a neighbor in sight. The house entirely of wood of one story with only a small chimney and bed-kitchen-living area that all blended in as one. It was the place that I successfully managed mark just as much as mine as yours as our scents stained into the pine floor and walls. Such a different choice of living you developed now.

_"Ah! So here it is! I know it may seem kinda far away from the towns and stuff, but I think you'll like it, Ivan! Thanks for coming over!" America laughed out opening his door._

_"It is small. I had not expected this of you, da? Are there other things that are 'small' I should know about from you?"_

_"Sh-Shut it! I built it myself! It's not like I'd want a mansion out here alone, anyway! Nothing about me is small unless I want it small!" the way America puffed up and pouted his pink lips made Russia laugh. This was so new to the Russian but the way the American made it seem so familiar warmed him than the burning coals in the fireplace ever did._

_"Hm, I don't quite know if I can believe that. There are parts of you I must see for myself, da?"_

_"What? No! Not in this lifetime, buddy! You won't ever see all of me ever! Got it?"_

_"Da. I believe I can wait a bit longer for you to change your mind." with that Russia leaned in the capture America's lips. The kiss savored every part of those flaps before America decided to deepen the kiss into a smoldering battle of the tongues._

_They only ever went as far as quick make-out sessions, but both knew that those times were coming to end as their passion was beginning to surface and wanted to experience more of the other._

_But Alfred really did enjoy being such a tease._

"So, um... Make yourself comfy while I grab some bottles, okay?" You comment on with an awkward smile going to your refrigerator. I wish to do as you instructed of me, but I have no idea how. This was not what I know your home to be like and it is so very different than my own. Still, for you, I will try to relax. At least the couch was clean enough to be dubbed sittable and rather comfy, as well.

You return but moments later looking much more cheery and natural. I wonder if you've already had a sip and just have a low tolerance level but rule out the theory. You've proved to hold your alcohol better than most, to be honest.

"Hey, Russia. I'm sorry I only had one type from Wal-Mart. Still, it's vodka." you apologize offering a shot of the Russian water.

I accept readily.

You sip at your can of beer like a woman, I've noticed. It caught me at a surprise, really. You look like a chugger. After what seems like no time at all I diminish your small supply of vodka and grow testy. Without the mind pollutant I will be forced into confronting the situation that is you and I merely cannot! Perhaps the hour is up and I may leave already?

I check my watch. 52 minutes have gone by.

"H-hey, Russia? Can I- can I call you Ivan?" you mumble lowly into my shoulder. You are certainly not drunk-drunk but to say tipsy would be a understatement. I blush at your words and nod.

"Good. Be-because I love your name, Ivan. It's so hot and awesome! It's like... Washington! Now _that's_ a name! Hee hee! Ivan Washington? Sounds awesomely perfect, right! Man, we should even write a movie and you'll be the villain and I'll be the hero and Washington would be he damsel I must pr-protect!"

Correction: You are drunk. Very, very mind numbingly painfully drunk. You even continue talking and I pay it no mind since I cannot begin to fathom what you are saying. Still, I'm captivated by you again. You lips move lazily but cutely in your drunken slur and your eyes droop. The tiniest speck of drool hints at the corner of your mouth and I find myself leaning in. I lean into your flush red lips and lick at that small speck.

You say nothing. You do nothing. You merely stand their with glossy eyes staring at me as though I've done something wrong and I know I have. I gave in.

Moments later you sloppily push me against a wall and kiss just under my chin on my neck. I enjoy this feeling and pull you closer. I notice that you do not reject my pulls so I lift your chin and lean down for a real kiss. We share our first kiss in over a century. It's a slow but needy lock of lips and you eventually open up for my tongue's ready invasion.

I never stopped loving you. Never.

We break for air and we pant. I wish for so much more now. I want you full lips, your unmarred neck, your tone chest, your firm legs, your Hollywood smile, your sun-blond hair, your strong arms, your skilled tongue, your needy arousal, and that cute butt I missed so very much. Oh how I need every inch of you that you can give me.

You comply to my unspoken wishes and pull me into your bedroom. I practically carry you the up since you fall constantly but we reach the room nonetheless.

It's as I would expect. Disorderly in a neat manner. Wrappers on the floor and posters on the wall. Then there's an untouched part of the room with a large chest I walk towards.

"Dun! Please dat's so embarrassing!" you yell before I open it. It's then I see the engraving on the lock. It's such an old lock but I remember it. It's from back when we were close and you bought one with me from the local blacksmith. I asked what you would do with it and you said to lock away all the memories of us. I thought you meant that figuratively but I now see you actually meant something literal. I open the box, regardless.

I chuckle at your whines of protest but dig through. You leave nothing out from every libel Cold War newspaper to the delicate memories from a now distant past. Old photos and trinkets fester everywhere inside to a point I find myself closing it quickly. A tear runs down my cheek without my notice.

You lock the trunk and wipe my tears. Another kiss from you is given but this time on my cheek. Do you want to be my hero now?

"I'm sorry. I said s'many things back den... I meant dem at the time bud... Bud I also didn't!" you slur out the apology and I think I understand. We kiss again. It's slow and deep and I lift you to your bed.

"Alfred." I say your name in a whisper. This name that has plagued me for so long. The name that breaks me and molds be back together. I love your name, Alfred.

A small laugh escapes your mouth like a giggle. "Vanya. Vanya I'm sorry, but I..." you blush now and turn away. This bothers me so I hold your chin back to me.

"What is it, sunflower?" I ask referring to my old nickname for you as well.

"I l've you. Forgive m'?" how can I reject a request like that?

"Of course. I love you." another kiss, long and passionate. I will never grow tired of these lips.

Moans are heard and clothes get scattered. Both of us are only in last level of undergarments. I stop here and let out another chuckle from your needy eyes and face. You look so put out and lustful and I share the sentiment but my resolve stays.

"Why are we sdopping?" a reasonable question, I decide.

"You are still very much intoxicated. I do not wish to carry on. I love you, I want this more special than that." you still look distressed but nod.

"I'll always l've y. Y'just have to be here in da mornin. 'F you are... I know I c'n trust you."

I nod and cuddle with you. I do some minor fondling mostly because I am still very horny and I want you as well but I wait for morning and sleep soundly with you in my arms.

In reality morning turned into the afternoon but once we woke and recalled the previous night's adventure we soon got down to work.

And there will never be a morning I with me not with you, my dear loving American sunflower, Alfred.

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><p>I hope you all liked it and would pretty, pretty please review! Happy belated birthday, Past!<p> 


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